Dead, but alive
by Good old fashioned lover girl
Summary: After-life John Lennon and Freddie Mercury have a conversation about death, life and their beloved ones in a Utopian land where dead people live.


_**A/N I wrote a concept about death that I CREATED. So please don't be mad if your concept about death is completely different (probably it is). I'm atheist and I don't really believe there's something more after death, but I like to think that something happens. Yeah, I'm crazy. So I really don't want to hurt anybody's ideology, or start a 'fight' about the thoughts of people on what happens after death. This is just something I created.**_

"That song again... Again and again..." the sobs of the immortal John Lennon were loud enough for Freddie Mercury to hear, who smiled slightly in his characteristic way and sat next to him. "What's wrong, darling?"  
John, who after his death in 1980 lived in the Utopian place he used to dream of, directed his gaze to the man with the moustache. "Him," he pointed to the little microscope in which he could observe the people on Earth without any kind of contact.  
"Paul." Freddie said.  
John sighed, "Paulie..."  
"I know you miss him, darling. But you have to stop stalking him every day until he dies. He's still got a long life and he's a very talented musician who still has to keep exploring what he can do."  
"But I never got to say sorry or goodbye to him... We were so close and then we got distant... And it was entirely my fault."  
Freddie, whose original name is Farrokh Bomi Bulsara, spoke again, "He knows you love him and that you're sorry."  
"I was horrible to him!"  
"Just wait and live your after-life happily. It's hard for me to watch my Queenies without me, and I'm so proud of them." They stood quiet for a minute until Freddie smiled again and pointed, "Your Paul is playing a song in the piano."  
"That's _'Dear Friend'_. I'm going to cry, Fred... He wrote this song for me after I _released 'How do you sleep'_. See how adorable he is? After I wrote a song containing horrible things about him, he composed such a beautiful song for me..." Lennon lowered his voice and sang softly along with what he heard of his old friend's voice, "_Dear friend, throw the wine, I'm in love with a friend of mine_... It makes me want to die!"  
"You're already dead, dear," Freddie giggled.  
John complained, "I shouldn't have died in 1980... Fucking Chapman."  
Mercury followed, "Fucking AIDS."  
They joked for some time about their death, because the sick jokes about death are something common when your time has already come.  
"He's playing _'Two of us'_ now... It's about us, you know? He and me. Not he and Linda like he said." John smiled at the memory. "He's crying, Fred. He's fucking crying... And I'm going to cry too if the next song _is 'Here Today'_."  
Freddie sang jokingly trying to cheer the other man up, "_Because he loves you! And you know that can't be bad..._"  
"He does love me... After everything I did..." Lennon smiled and placed his head in Mercury's shoulder. They stood a few minutes admiring quietly the beautiful melody coming out of the living former Beatle. Staring at the man gently strumming his guitar or playing the piano along with his harmonious voice was a privileged pleasure for the ears and eyes of any human being; dead or alive.

And John Lennon was right when he once said he wasn't afraid of death because he didn't believe in it. For him it was like getting out of the car and riding another, and his early death at the age of forty was the proof that he was right on the statement he once made.

Death is getting out of the car and driving another; a permanent, definitive one. And if John Winston used to sing about everybody living together in peace with no religions, possessions, and of course nothing to kill or die for because once you're dead you can't die again, that's all death is about. People always dream about that Utopian "perfect" peaceful planet, and little they know that's what's dying about. And even if that after-life world where money isn't handled and violence don't exist seem like the best place to live (and it probably is), it's also boring and repetitive.

Curiously, living people dream about the world in which dead people live, while the dead could literally _die _again and be exposed to pain and sorrow one more time just to experience another day as a living human being.

What's the point of living if you don't have something to fight for and ambitions? What could you possibly fight for if you live in a land where everything is settled and done?

That's what death is about. The end of the experience of crashed dreams, uncompleted stories, broken promises, hateful feelings and moments of victory.

Freddie closed his eyes and let the music that was played by Paul posses his immortal spirit, while John, who didn't want to miss any wink made by Paul was still watching him with love eyes.

Suddenly, Lennon watched how his old songwriting partner grabbed a notebook and another guitar to work with unfinished songs and to write new ones with all the endless ideas he had in his head. Paul was glowing and grinning as new melodies came through his guitar and hummed new lyrics, always smiling.

It made John feel regret. The regret of ever wanting Paul to die so he could be with him again. John learned and accepted that it wasn't Paul's time to die yet, and it was a selfish desire. With all those songs, ideas and pure joy Paul had, John could only wish for a long pleasant life for his love.

John smiled, "You're right, Fred."

Without opening his eyes, Freddie slowly and soothingly responded, "Aren't I always?"

"I don't want Paul to die. I love him that much that I want him to live forever even if that means I won't be able to hold him in my arms anymore. He doesn't deserve going to this absolutely boring place."

Freddie tangled his fingers in John's auburn hair and caressed it a little, "No one deserves dying, darling. But everyone does."

"I will wait for him forever… I don't have other choice, really. I'm going to be stuck in this "paradise" _forever._ I _can_ wait."

"You have become a very generous man, Johnny."

John laughed, "It was about time, don't you think?"

"Of course, my friend." Freddie nodded. "Now why don't you join me? Queen's concert starts in twenty minutes. I have to give good luck to my Queenies. Although I know they always rock the stage. I love them so much."

"Sounds great! Let's change the view from the microscope, then."

"Look at them! They're getting ready! Adam is warming his voice while Bri and Rog are laughing like maniacs… Oh, how I love to hear their laughter…"

Suddenly, John changed the topic to an awkward question he didn't know if it was clever to ask, "How do you feel about them doing concerts with Adam?"

"I'm proud of them. I'm proud that they kept doing concerts and the fans still and will always love them. In the beginning it was a little uncomfortable, y'know… Watching him sing and dance around with my boys the way I used to… I would give everything to be on that stage again. But it happened because it had to happen, and he is a very talented singer, and of course they needed a vocalist and someone to play the piano and do the things I used to. I'm so proud of my Queenies." Freddie smiled, and that led John to smile too.

John sighed, "If they could only know that we are watching them…"

"Oh, but they know, dear John! I'm sure my Queenies know I'm still there for them! The minute before going on stage they always kiss a photo of mine and say 'W_ish us luck, Fred. We love you.'_"

John giggled, "Sometimes when Paulie is writing a song and needs help he exclaims, '_Wherever you are, I need your help Johnny! Help me out with the middle eight!_' and every night he says good night."

"See? He knows you're there, and I'm sure George, Ringo, Julian and Sean do the same."

John directed his smile to Freddie, "Why is that we never met when we were alive? We would have been good friends!"

And that was the way both men spent another day that wasn't necessarily counting. What's the deal on counting days, hours or seconds when you don't even sleep?

Maybe dying forever is better than after-life. What's the point of living forever? It must be boring being dead and conscious of it in a Utopian (but boring) after-life world forever, endlessly hoping to live again. Don't dead people get tired of being _dead _but _alive _at the same time?

Those kinds of thoughts didn't cross the mind of the two men staring at the microscope. All that matter to them was enjoying the blissful happiness of their beloved ones.

_**A/N I would really like to know your opinion about this.**_


End file.
